Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Mexico and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Gun Club to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Animal Collective,
Porter Ricks,
Khruangbin,
Fatback Band,
Mad Mike,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lyres,
Scientists,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Zero Boys,
Brothers Johnson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Adolescents,
The Young Rascals,
One Last Wish,
Crispy Ambulance,
La Düsseldorf,
the Bar-Kays,
Rapeman,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Moleskins,
Fela Kuti,
Arcadia,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Avey Tare,
Deepchord,
The Fuzztones,
Gerry Rafferty,
Juan Atkins,
Guru Guru,
Crooked Eye,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Black Bananas,
Flash Fearless,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
T. Rex,
Throbbing Gristle,
Piero Umiliani,
Eric Copeland,
Cecil Taylor,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Newcleus,
Ken Boothe,
Bronski Beat,
Stiv Bators,
Pussy Galore,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Residents,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Suicide,
Dave Gahan,
CMW,
Hashim,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
K-Klass,
a-ha,
Sällskapet,
Nils Olav,
The Sound,
Boredoms,
Sight & Sound,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.